


The Stories I Could Tell

by caleprwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Art by Angrbodah, Bucky's Big Stupid Sexy Mouth, Embarrassed Cap, M/M, Mentions of underage drinking and intoxication, Shenanigans, Stucky - Freeform, capreversebb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 14:42:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15145391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleprwrite/pseuds/caleprwrite
Summary: What would happen if Natasha could convince her two favorite Super Soldiers to change it up?





	The Stories I Could Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the awesome art and idea by angrbodah for the 2018 Captain America Reverse Big Bang. Love them!

 

“Jesus, Stevie! What kind of lies have you been tellin’ them all this time, huh?” Bucky cackled through ragged breaths, holding onto his stomach with his new vibranium arm. His eyes crinkled and his nose was scrunched up in pure amusement at the shocked faces of the rest of the team as they finished up dinner one evening in Wakanda. Well, the rest of the team _except_ Natasha that is to say.

“I really don’t think it’s a proper topic for the dinner table, Buck,” Steve growled out.

He was beginning to feel quite embarrassed, and the blush clear to the tips of his ears betrayed the controlled, yet appropriately offended mask he wore. Natasha had taught him well, but there were some things that pale Irish skin would always be able to conquer.

Bucky snickered again with an endearing snort, “Table topics, huh? Goddamn, Baby! You just make it so easy!”

Natasha snorted out a laugh as well as she took a drink of her beer. “Let me guess, Steven,” she began, tucking her platinum blond hair behind her ear. “There are only two people alive who know about the table dancing contest you won back in ‘44.”

“Oh my god, Nat!” Steve hollered and dropped his head down into his arms which were folded on the table. The rest of the team joined in the laughter. And why not, it was a very well-deserved and much needed change of pace from the hell they’d been through with Thanos. And then there was the aftermath of setting the universe straight. It was not an easy thing to do.

“Wait- wait, my man. Nat said _table dance?_ You mean as in a lap dance, but on a table? Yo!” he guffawed. Once he could talk again he continued to troll Steve. “Hey- you go top or bottom?” Sam continued to giggle as he asked, eyes bright, loving the opportunity to tease the absolute hell out of Steve. He leaned back in his chair and scratched at his short beard through his smirk.

“Top or bottom? I do not understand,” Mantis asked with a puzzled and royally confused look in her big eyes.

Both Peter Quill and Gamora howled out a belly laugh when Tony leaned across poor Peter Parker to explain the specific expression. Though he tried, Peter couldn't help but giggle too. The kid was keeping up just fine with the conversation, not so surprisingly. Mantis still looked puzzled, which made it even funnier for Tony.

Steve looked around the table at his “friends”, both the new he had made and the old friends he knew and loved. His brow furrowed in a dramatic show of betrayal and he did his level best to not add to the conversation with a real zinger of his own. After all, the lap dance wasn’t even _close_ to the worst of the things he and Bucky had gotten up to in the forties. Before the war, they were regular assholes back in Brooklyn.

Steve controlled himself, but then Bucky had to open his big, stupid, sexy mouth. Steve watched in horror as he sat back and held onto the imaginary hips above himself and groaned to himself in his chair, a cocky smirk on his face. “Stevie’s always liked to bottom.”

“Fuck you, Buck!” Steve blurted. That was it. Steve was officially losing his mind, and it felt good.

Bucky immediately shot back, “Aw, baby, I thought you’d never ask!”

That was the defining moment, when the room officially lost its shit. Even Peter, the kid who used to seem so sweet and innocent - except for the sarcastic streak he possessed that was a mile wide - howled in laughter.

Steve grabbed another beer from the cluster of bottles in the middle of the table and threw it to the teen. And really, why not? He and Bucky were up to polishing off bottles of rotgut whiskey by the time they were seventeen. One Sammy Adams was not going to kill the enhanced little shit.

Peter caught the beer with hardly a glance but then his brows flew up to his hairline in surprise when he realized it was, in fact, for him. One of his idols (read: Tony Stark) was sitting next to him, laughing and carrying on like they were equals. And the other? Yes, looking at you Steven Grant Rogers. The other actually tossed him a beer. So yeah, color Peter surprised.

Steve smirked and nodded toward Peter. “Drink up kid; the night ain’t even close to bein’ over.”

Thor uncapped his flask of Asgardian mead and poured a bit in Steve and Bucky's beers for them again. He offered some to Bruce as well, but the doctor held up a hand and politely declined. He shook his head and gave a small self-deprecating smile. “I've been not myself for long enough, but thank you.”

Peter Quill raised his brow and gestured toward Thor. “Dude, don't hold out on me, man. I’m the only demi-god at the table.”

He slid his beer bottle toward Thor, who looked curiously at him in response. “Demi-god? Are you sure about this?”

Gamora just rolled her eyes. Here they went. Peter Quill leaned back in his chair and took a breath. Tony joined Gamora in the eye roll. He had heard the story already and knew they were in for the long haul once Quill’s _ego_ – no pun intended – came into the picture.

***

While the evening progressed, one beer for Peter Parker turned into four, and the table turned into the living room floor. He sat on the floor against the sofa with his head in Natasha’s lap as she gently carded her hands through his hair. The two had gotten very close once the kid finally cracked the Widow’s shell. Tony called it. It was impossible not to like the kid. She scratched gently at his scalp and looked over to Bucky, studying him closely.

“What’re you thinkin’ so loud about, Natalia?” Bucky asked, knowing her tells all too well.

She shrugged, looking down to Peter’s hair as her hands slid through it and then back over at Bucky. “I kind of missed my red at first, but the blonde’s grown on me. But you know… You would look good as a redhead, Yasha.”

“Me?” He asked, pausing halfway up to his mouth with the beer bottle. His quirked brow furrowed in thought and then a little smirk teased at the corner of his lips. “I’ll do it if Stevie does.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen, Buck. I’m already Irish pale; I don’t need red hair on top of it.”

“No, not red for you, Steve,” she scoffed, and then thought carefully. “You should go darker... Yeah, you would look good with dark hair. Especially with that beard you’ve become so attached to lately,” Natasha decided.

Bucky looked over at Steve and he shrugged. His cheeks were a that little shade of pink that Bucky adored that had nothing to do with being embarrassed and everything to do with his guard being down, the self-sacrificing little shit. It was true. The four bottles of mead-enhanced beer had loosened him up wonderfully. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but then he nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Really?” Bucky laughed, straightening up in his seat. His eyes lit up with excitement though he was surprised that Steve would actually go for something like that.

Steve grinned and winked- actually fucking _winked_ at him. “Well, as long as you’ll still call me pretty, Buck.”

The rest of the team snorted and snickered in laughter. Their Captain hadn’t been so relaxed in far too long, if ever. It was all fun and games for a minute, but then when he began calling out different hair colors for the team, they started dropping like flies.

They were brave, but pink and green and blue haired Avengers were where many of them drew the line. Couldn’t exactly blend in with neon hair... It was just impractical, was all. Sure it was.

“Can I help, Natasha?” Peter asked eyes glassy from the beers but bright with excitement.

“Sure I don’t see why not. Let’s move this to my suite. I’ve got everything we need.”

Steve grinned. “Of course you do.”

***

Natasha and Peter began with Bucky. The tall super soldier sat bare chested in Natasha’s bathroom suite with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. She narrowed her eyes and stared in his direction. He met her eyes in the mirror and quirked a cocky brow at her. Peter caught the exchange on his phone, with everyone’s permission of course – he wasn’t stupid.

“Spit it out Natalia.”

She sighed; the aloof sound she made that showed nothing but boredom but hid her true emotions. “I was just thinking…”

“About?” Bucky prodded.

He knew there was something else she was ruminating on. Steve nodded, understanding where Natasha was going with it.

Peter watched their exchanges with rapt attention. He was amazed at how easily the trio knew each other. And when one wasn’t up on something, the other two were. It was something they had to have developed over decades of knowing each other. He wondered if he and his friends, or even he and Tony Stark would ever get to that level of familiarity.

“I think the beard should go, Buck,” Steve suggested and Natasha nodded the slightest bit.

Bucky easily turned his head to look at Steve eye to eye, not in the mirror. Natasha followed the movement with the hair brush, nodding to Peter that they should begin with the color.

“What, you grow a beard and now suddenly I can’t have one?” Bucky teased.

Steve blushed. He hadn’t really thought of it quite like that. After all, he had grown extremely attached to the hair on his face. Out of a nervous habit, Steve reached up and scratched at his beard.

“I dunno. What do you think?” His tone suddenly turned just a tiny bit shy. “I miss seein’ your face.” He came closer to Bucky and climbed onto his lap, facing him head on.

Bucky took advantage of Steve’s proximity and reached out to steal a kiss from Steve’s lips. Steve brought his hands up and ran his fingers lightly along Bucky’s jaw, settling his thumb in the little divot of his chin and shaking his head gently.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I miss this, too,” Steve murmured and pressed a kiss to the dimple.

Bucky’s hands reached out and grabbed Steve’s hips, pulling him down so they were pelvis to pelvis, settling him in. He clearly had no intention of Steve going anywhere in the near future. Natasha and Peter were just going to have to work around him.

“Aww, of course. Anything you want, Baby.” Bucky smirked lovingly and nipped out at Steve’s lips.

Peter looked to Natasha. He wasn’t sure if they should leave the two alone or keep going with the hair color. She shot Peter a wink and handed him the bowl and brush so he could hold it for her as she parted Bucky’s hair. Steve and Bucky continued on like they were the only ones in the room. And really, with the comfort level each of them had with Natasha, they might as well have been.

Peter was there too, though and somewhere in the back of Steve’s brain he was aware of the fact that this might be a little more than the kid was ready for. He shrugged and reasoned that Parker was a part of the team now. It was all or nothing with Steve Rogers and his team.

Feast or famine.

Aside from the goddamned _table dancing,_ Steve didn’t hide anything from the team. And really, with everything they had been through, he didn’t much care if Peter saw him and Bucky together, loving on each other like that. If there was one positive thing he could say for Thanos – and that was a real fuckin’ stretch after all - it was that the bastard sure had set Steve’s priorities in order.

Those priorities were the people in his life. The ones who stood by his side and the ones he had lost. It was the ones he was able to get back, and the ones he never would. Topping that list in every stage of his life, through the decades, the centuries, was Bucky Barnes.

It was the Bucky Barnes, the sweet little brown haired boy who looked out for him and just kept coming back for more of Steve’s griping when they were just shit-tiny nothin’ kids back in Brooklyn. Bucky Barnes, the popular guy among all the dames in high school, the one that would go on dates and fool around with girls just enough to keep the focus off of the closeness he shared with scrawny, scrappy Stevie Rogers. It was Bucky Barnes, the only name Steve heard that fateful day in Azzano when he went on yet another suicide mission behind enemy lines in Austria. The same Bucky Barnes that tried to kill him on the helicarrier over the Potomac who had managed to break decades of brainwashing, conditioning and torture to pull him out of the river to safety. Bucky Barnes in Romania, Bucky in Wakanda, Bucky with his hands on his hips and his mouth on his lips.

Bucky was everything to him. If that bothered the kid, then the kid could just fuck right off and find something else to do. As far as Steve was concerned, living his life in the moment, to the fullest is the only thing that mattered anymore.

It was liberating, in a way, to decide that for the part of his life he had yet to live, he was his own man. No longer did Steve Rogers owe his body to the U. S. Government. The life and the service he gave was payment in full for the suffering he had known.

“Steve,” he was interrupted by a soft voice. Then there was a clearing of a throat warning of a drastic reduction in patience coming his way.

He opened his eyes slowly, admiring the swollen, shiny kiss reddened lips of Bucky’s. He grinned and groaned out in desire at the sight.

“Yeah, Nat.”

When he turned to Natasha, he was surprised to see her handing him a small bowl of shaving cream and a beard brush.

“You want to do the honors?” she asked, quirking a brow at him in amusement.

Steve looked back down at Bucky and nodded. The last time he shaved Bucky had to have been before the war. It was a thing of theirs. Steve would sit on Bucky’s lap, almost identically to how he was sitting currently and Bucky would hold perfectly still for him. Back when neither were enhanced, and the only thing available was a straight razor, it was a definite show of trust and love.

Muscle memory took over and Steve gently swirled the warm cream across Bucky’s jaw. He went over the same spots multiple times, not because there wasn’t enough of the cream, but because he liked the way Bucky melted into him when he did. And Because Bucky was _Steve’s_ asshole; he leaned forward and planted a big kiss on Steve’s lips just to share the shaving cream.  

Steve worked the razor across Bucky’s skin as Natasha and Peter applied the color to his hair. When they finished, a fresh faced man with dye wet hair piled high atop his head stared back at them in the mirror.

She made quick work of coloring Steve’s hair and beard, which took only a fraction of the time of Bucky’s. His hair was covered and his beard was coloring by the time he finished shaving Bucky and cleaning his face with a hot towel.

“How long do we gotta wait, Natalia?” he asked impatiently.

She snorted. “Now you’re in a rush? You were perfectly happy to sit there with Steve in your lap literally two minutes ago!”

“Yeah, well I think my lap wants somethin’ else now,” he grinned, “so if you don’t mind… How long?”

At that point, there wasn’t enough beer left in the world for poor Peter Parker to keep a straight face. He blushed harder than Steve, which was really saying something.

“Ten more minutes, then I can rinse you both.”

***

To the untrained eye, a shirtless Steve and a shirtless Bucky, both bent over the side of Natasha’s bathtub would raise a brow. But really, who were they kidding? It would raise a brow to the trained eye as well. So much so, that Natasha stood back next to Peter and took in the view for a moment. She noticed how Peter’s mouth fell open the tiniest bit.

“Same, kid. Same,” she nodded and sighed. “Let’s get to work.”

The two set to rinsing and shampooing the super soldiers. As Peter finished with Steve, Natasha encouraged him to take more photos with his phone.

“One day you’ll thank me,” she told him.

_Indeed._

After being towel dried and run through with a hair dryer, Natasha brushed out Bucky’s hair. Steve’s dried easily, and it only took a little time to be pushed back into submission by his hands. Peter almost couldn’t contain his excitement when he had an idea.

“Get your suits on, guys! This is gonna make a great photo!” he begged.

They did, and Bucky grumbled about the extra time everything was taking because he just wanted to get Steve home, okay? But he did it. He felt bad about spoiling it for the kid and his youthful excitement was contagious.

They were dressed, looking fabulous if Natasha may say so herself, and newly disguised. Of course, there was the matter of Bucky’s vibranium arm, and Steve’s ridiculous shoulder to waist ratio, and Natasha’s well, her everything. She was deadly. But damn, they looked good. And the smile on Peter’s face as he took the photo almost made the wait worth it.

Peter snapped away on his phone, loving the way the trio joked with each other. Steve’s body language definitely reflected the innuendos being tossed around between Bucky and Natasha. It was eye opening for the kid, the way their fearless leader could be in charge one minute, controlling the chaos and leading the team to victory after victory and then the next minute once his guard was dropped, he was an actual person.

It gave Peter a sense of calm, of knowing that he too could be himself around the team. He didn’t have to always put a brave face on. Sure, he had developed that relationship with Natasha, she was like a big sister or something. And if he could let his guard down with the Black Widow of all people, then the same went for the rest of the team.

“Are we done here?” Bucky asked impatiently after Peter snapped another photo.

The question pulled Peter out of his thoughts and he nodded absently. It was a rhetorical question, but he was still seventeen. And when you were seventeen and a hundred year old war hero asked you a question, you responded, dammit.

“Thanks for letting me hang with you guys, Cap,” Peter gushed.

Steve smiled easily. He kissed Natasha on the cheek on his way out and then cuffed Peter on the shoulder.

“Not bad, kid. I like the hair, but when we’re not working, call me Steve. Yeah?” he winked.

“Oh, okay. Yeah… Steve. See ya 'round, then,” Peter stammered out.

_Real smooth, Parker._

Bucky snorted. “Call me whatever you want kid, as long as it’s on my way out. I gotta get this fine ass alone.”

Peter was pretty sure that if he hadn’t already blushed full on tomato red by then, he would have when the freaking Winter Soldier of all people slapped Captain America on the ass right in front of him, making him honest-to-god giggle. Peter could write an entire essay about his life over the past two years and nobody would believe him.

Well, Maybe Ned. He was cool like that.

“Here, drink,” Natasha ordered. She held a bottle of water out at Peter and he took it without argument. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

Peter did as he was told and crashed on the Widow’s sofa. He was tired. He was happy. He was part of the team, and nothing any of the asshole upperclassmen at school did would change that.

***

Bucky attacked the column of Steve’s throat the minute they were inside the elevator heading to their level. Steve dropped his head back and sighed, loving the way the smooth skin of Bucky’s jaw felt against his neck.

“Buck,” he groaned.

“Yeah, Baby? You like that, huh?” Bucky teased, nipping against the sensitive skin, just over the two pretty freckles Steve had on the side of his throat.

Bucky drug his tongue across Steve’s adam’s apple and nipped at that skin, too. He let his hands roam free not that the two of them were alone. Sure, he had been forward in front of the kid, but now he could really let go and grab a handful.

Said handful was rapidly hardening in his hand and Steve whimpered with his ministrations. He pulled back and met Bucky’s eyes, a look of pure love and desire there. He grinned, then ran his fingers through Bucky’s newly colored hair.

“It’s so soft, Buck. I like it,” he murmured against Bucky’s mouth as the lift came to a halt at their floor.

Bucky snickered at Steve. “Usually I don’t get that from a fella, Baby. Soft ain’t exactly what I’m goin' for here.”

He picked Steve up, the two of them face to face and Steve wrapped his long legs around Bucky’s waist. He rolled his eyes, a loving and exasperated grin curling his lips before he reached out and nipped at Bucky’s mouth. Their tongues met as Bucky walked blindly to the door and then into their suite.

He bumped off the wall in the foyer and Steve giggled as he reached out and shut the door behind them for Bucky. The movement made them teeter to the side and Bucky went with it, pressing Steve up against the opposite wall as he took the opportunity to shamelessly grind his pelvis against Steve’s erection.

 _“Mm-uh, Buck,”_ Steve whimpered. “Quit teasin’ me here. Anyone tell ya you can be an asshole sometimes?”

Bucky quirked a brow at Steve and grinned deviously. He gave Steve another roll of his hips and licked out into his mouth.

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m your asshole, _asshole.”_

“God, you’re such a jerk.”

Bucky ground his pelvis against Steve again a few more times for good measure, and when he had Steve really frustrated, he finally offered what he knew Steve wanted. “God, Stevie. I’m gonna fuck you like the little punk you are. You want that, huh Baby?”

Steve just nodded as he panted into Bucky’s waiting mouth. He held him there, elegant artist’s fingers calloused from years of battle running through Bucky’s soft, long hair. He grinned and gave the strands a harsh tug as he rolled his own hips back against Bucky’s. He rubbed his beard against the smooth column of Bucky’s throat, which made him rumble a growl deep against Steve’s ear.

Bucky pushed off the wall and stumbled toward their bedroom. He bumped against a decorative hall table and knocked a vase off. It hit the floor with a crash and shatter. Pieces flew everywhere and Steve groaned out a chiding little sound.

“Buck- you better hope that wasn’t some priceless Wakandan artifact,” he panted against Bucky’s lips.

Bucky smirked. “T’Challa should know better ‘n to put something like that in here, Baby. Ain’t enough sound proofing in the palace to muffle your sweet sounds. It’s no secret you like it rough.”

Steve blushed clear up to the tips of his ears with that comment. It was true. He loved it rough. And that didn’t have shit nothin’ to do with being a super soldier. It was one hundred percent pure Stevie. Had been since he was a tiny little thing. Only difference now was he didn’t have to be quiet.

And he took full advantage of that. _Every single time._

“Wanna give it a run for his Highness’ money, Buck?” Steve teased. “See how loud you can make me scream your name?”

“Fuck yeah, Baby. You really are a little punk, aren’t you?” Bucky purred and smacked Steve on the ass. With his vibranium hand.

They stumbled through the doorway into the suite and Bucky stripped Steve of his uniform. Steve was a virtual adonis in the uniform, but without it, well that was another story. The kid did have a good idea with the photo, but it was high time Bucky got a good look at the miles of flushed pale Irish skin he knew were waiting for him. He kissed down Steve’s body, teasing the little dips and ripples of his abs, the cut of his obliques. God, he was beautiful.

“Buck,” Steve panted, whining high in the back of his throat. He ran his long fingers through Bucky’s hair again and Bucky took him into his mouth, fast, deep and unexpected. “Fuck!” Steve cried out at the unexpected and white-hot depth of Bucky’s throat.

Bucky pushed himself, deeper and deeper until he was nuzzling the base of Steve’s length. He hollowed his cheeks on the way up and slurped at the tip before diving back in deep. Again and again he pushed Steve’s limits, swallowing him down and cupping him just right. And when he was close, right there at the precipice, he popped off with an obscene wet sound, leaving Steve’ panting, pinked and dizzy.

“Wha- I don’t…” Steve stuttered, doing his level best to form a coherent thought.

Bucky grinned up at Steve like the asshole he was and smirked. “Somethin’ you wanted, Baby?”

He stood and turned as he walked toward the bathroom, dropping pieces of his own uniform along the way. First went the belt. Then the jacket was next. Steve watched hungrily as the pants were next. The sound of Bucky’s zipper had to be the hottest thing he heard that millennium.

Yep, Steve Rogers had definitely lost his mind.

Bucky stopped at the door to the bathroom. He motioned with his head to Steve to follow him in, which he did obediently. Bucky reached in and started the hot water of the large glass walled shower as Steve entered the room. And good god, that view was something Steve would never get tired of.

Bucky was cut, the years of work and training, the recent time he spent herding goats and running and entire Wakandan farm with only one arm really bulked him up. The new arm matched perfectly, adjusting for the weight distribution of his new bulk.

Steve sidled up behind Bucky and bent to kiss along the old scarred seam of where metal once met flesh. Shuri’s work had been something neither Steve nor Buckycould have ever dreamed of. His damaged tissue was repaired, the nerves had been regenerated, and where there used to be pain, Bucky could now feel pleasure.

It warmed Steve’s heart to know they had both gone through some much individually, only to end up back together, in each other’s arms. In the only place they really ever belonged.

Bucky guided Steve back into the hot spray of water and Steve groaned in pleasure as the heat trailed down upon his skin. Bucky entered and spun Steve by his hips, pressing him up against the far wall under the other shower head. He buried himself against the supple curves of Steve’s ass and rolled his hips explicitly.

There was no doubt in Steve’s mind what was to happen next. He fumbled for the bottle of lube they had that was formulated specifically for the shower and handed it back to Bucky. As he did so, he arched his spine just so, and Bucky pressed against him just that much harder.

Bucky’s hands caressed the planes of solid muscle that ran along Steve’s back. He knew what Steve wanted, that Steve was getting impatient with him. But he wanted to take his time with this part. He wanted to admire that soft skin, the way it contrasted so deliciously with the corded muscle beneath the surface. And if he just took his sweet ass time?

_Sue him._

Steve was perfect. The outside matched the inside of the scrappy kid with the heart of gold he fell in love with so long ago. There was a while when Bucky was jealous right after Steve had gone all stupid and accepted the serum that made him big and even more self-sacrificing. It was only because the world finally got to see on the outside what Bucky had always seen on the inside. Suddenly the two matched, and then everyone wanted on the bandwagon.

It didn’t take long before Steve figured out what had made Bucky so sour in the pout back in the war. He knew him best, after all. But after that one night, huddled up close for warmth, the two of them in a canvas tent in the middle of the soggy late European autumn, Steve finally topped Bucky. He was healthy enough too, finally, and he showed Bucky exactly what it was Steve had been addicted to all those years.

After opening himself up to Steve like that, Bucky knew. He finally understood. Steve belonged to Bucky and nobody else. No amount of serum enhanced muscle or chorus girl’s attention would ever change that.

Every now and then they would switch, change things up. But Bucky had spoken the truth that evening with their friends. Steve had always loved to bottom for Bucky, and nothing would ever change that. And so he did, after Bucky opened him up again, real sweet and slow and lovingly. After he was practically, then absolutely begging and whimpering incoherently, Bucky slammed home.

They loved on each other, they worshipped every inch of each other’s bodies, and when he had been pushed to the limit, when Steve was so far gone that all he could do was cry out, “Buck, Buck, oh fuck, Buck!”

Bucky let him really have it. Just the way he liked it best.

Bucky pulled back and Steve whimpered at the loss of his heat. He felt Bucky’s strong hands on his shoulders and he was spun so they stood face to face. Bucky grabbed Steve by the hips and lifted him into his arms, burying himself deep inside Steve’s body. They held onto each other for dear life, eye to eye, mouth to mouth.

They panted and groaned and cried out promises of love and forever to each other as their lips worshipped each other. Their cries echoed in the bathroom, the acoustics perfect for the deep growls Bucky let loose and the sharp cries that broke free of Steve’s lips. Sounds of wet skin against wet skin only added to their love making.

“Ready, Baby?” Bucky demanded of Steve and he nodded, begging to come. _“Do it Stevie._ Come for me.”

And he did, spurting white-hot jets of come across their bellies. Seeing Steve fall apart that way only intensified his own release as he let loose deep inside Steve’s body. He grunted deep, feral and slammed his hips up against Steve two, three more times, emptying everything he had into him.

They stayed that way, clinging onto each other, Bucky’s thighs trembling and Steve’s body fluttering around him until they caught their breath enough to rinse and towel off. When they finally crawled into bed, Bucky pulled Steve close to his chest, pressing kisses against his forehead.

“God, I love you so much, Baby.”

Steve hummed against his chest and wrapped his arm tighter around Bucky’s waist. _“Mine.”_

It was all he could get out before falling into a deep sleep, completely boneless against Bucky’s body.


End file.
